


when you're smiling and astride me.

by wickedbad



Series: and the stars will be your eyes. [3]
Category: Red Dead Redemption, Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Ambiguous timeframe in game, Established Relationship, Fluff, Just wanted to add Charles is definitely a top, Kissing, M/M, No Spoilers, Soft cowboys, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 11:58:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16912458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedbad/pseuds/wickedbad
Summary: Most of the time, Arthur felt hardened and cold toward most everything, yet, now he was utterly careless, kissing Charles like nothing else mattered. How Charles could make a sappy fool out of him, he had no idea; he figured he liked the mystery of it all.[A soft moment between two sweet cowboys]





	when you're smiling and astride me.

Saint Denis was the pinnacle of civilization; a perfectly construed amalgamation of everything Arthur hated about the world all in one place. The people always flocked to the streets, taking up too much space in between tiny apartments, storefronts, and narrow roadways. There was something about the kind of folk that lived in Saint Denis that rubbed him the wrong way; whenever he was in the city, the only thing he could think about was how soon he could get out of there. The west was much more free; open ranges that stretched on for miles that one could get lost in. He could spend days basking in that solitude, not having to worry about the tight grasp of civilization closing in on him.

Now, however, Saint Denis was exactly where he wanted to be, and he couldn’t imagine a world beyond the city, even if he had tried.

It was lost on him how many days it had been since he and Charles had slipped off from camp; they’d both forgotten the exact wording of the excuse they conjured for their absence. Though, they reckoned someone at camp would care to enlighten them upon their eventual return, probably followed up by some passive aggressive remark about how little food they all had. Hunting trips had become far too common of an excuse; they had probably settled on heading to Saint Denis to investigate a tip Arthur had picked up from a kind stranger on the side of the road. Sure, that sounded convincing.

The night they arrived, Arthur paid for a hotel room in the city - one of the nicest hotels he had yet to stay in. The entire thing was ridiculous, really - so materialistic and grandiose it would’ve made him annoyed if his thoughts hadn’t been preoccupied with the lingering fantasy of Charles’s mouth on his own. When he’d booked a room, the lobby had been mostly vacant; the patrons had ventured off from the downstairs saloon and headed to bed for the night. A few stragglers huddled around, smoking and drinking while they played cards in the corner. Arthur reckoned Charles would be able to slip upstairs just fine without casting too much of an eye on himself.

The room was grossly pompous; expensive wallpaper coated the walls and linens that could feed half the camp lined the bed. From the windowed door that led to the balcony, the lights from the city decorated the view; a few stagecoaches and horses sauntered down the roadways. The bulk of pedestrians had retired for the night, save for the few folks who were shouting at each other in an alley somewhere nearby. The entire scene was so incredibly Saint Denis that Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before there was a series of knocks on the door; when he unlocked it, he quickly ushered Charles inside, peeking down the corridor into the parlor area for any wandering eyes. Once inside, Arthur clicked the lock behind him, turning to face Charles who was taking in the room with wide-eyes.

“Anyone see ya come up?” Arthur asked, knowing damn well that if anyone was good at sneaking around, it was Charles.

In response, Charles shook his head, taking a step toward Arthur to grab his face in his hands; Arthur’s beard was rough beneath his calloused palms, and the blue of his eyes were dark in the dim lighting. He reached up to grab the brim of Arthur’s dark hat, tossing it onto the floor beside them. “Not a soul.”

They leaned into each other, lips meeting for the first time in what felt like ages. Arthur let out a sigh, relishing in the way Charles’s body felt against his own. It had been far too long since they had been able to be with each other like this: wrapped up in one another without having to worry about anyone else in the world. They were still trying to get a hold on this _thing_ they had going on, trying to understand exactly what they were doing and _how_ they were going to do it. Mostly, they didn’t have the chance to think about it; the moments they had alone were spontaneous and seldom, and neither of them wanted to waste precious time voicing concerns when they could be enjoying each other’s company. They spent a lot of time conveying meaning through stolen glances across camp, accompanied by a brief touch on the shoulder or arm - so insignificant no one would question it if they saw. The freedom to be intimate was a luxury they could rarely afford, and there was no time for anything else when the opportunity arose.

Now, however, they were free to make up for all that lost time; Charles’s lips trailed the length of Arthur’s jawline, pressing kisses into his stubbled skin. Arthur stifled a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a sigh, losing it in the back of his throat as he swallowed it down. Charles’s hands made their way to his waist, guiding him backwards toward the bed until the back of his legs bumped into the frame. Wandering hands made use of unbuttoning their shirts, and Arthur grunted when Charles grabbed a fistful of material, untucking his shirt from inside his jeans.

Charles positioned his stance so that his thigh was in between Arthur’s legs, slowly pressing into him. Arthur fluttered his eyes, dipping his head to rest against Charles’s shoulder, holding back a deep sigh. “Mhm, think you can be quiet?”

“Reckon I can try,” Arthur breathed out, his voice hoarse and needy as he let Charles navigate him atop the bed, the dark linens billowing beneath their weight.

* * *

Arthur peered through the slight crack he’d opened in the curtains that overlooked the balcony; it was early in the morning, and most of the citizens of Saint Denis were still in the process of waking up for the day. The world outside was still and groggy - it was the closest to calm he’d seen this city since he’d first arrived. He stretched his back as he took in the obscured view and let out a satisfied sigh when the stubborn crick in his neck worked itself out. From behind him, he heard the bed creak, followed by the soft sound of feet padding across the floor.

Charles pressed a kiss against his bare, freckled shoulder, his hands wandering to the bony points of Arthur’s hips, “Mhm, I think I could get used to this,” He pushed his hair back, letting his lips kiss across the nape of Arthur’s neck, humming into his skin.

“I reckon we’d make quite some city folk,” Arthur chuckled, his voice still laced with morning haze; he leaned into Charles’s embrace, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against his back. He twisted his head to meet Charles’s lips, lingering for a few moments before pulling away. “M’sure we could find some scheme to pull.”

Charles kissed behind his ear, “You wouldn’t last a week livin’ in the city, cowboy. Too much civilization for you.”

“You ain’t think so?” Arthur gave a hearty laugh, “Gah, you’re prob’ly right; much too civilized for folk like me. Take more than a lifetime to set me straight, I reckon; get me livin’ in one ‘a those apartments they got here.”

They stood in silence for a few beats, basking in the soft rays of morning sunlight that crept through the opening in the curtains. Charles pulled his body away, making his way back toward the bed where he sat, causing the bed frame to groan beneath his weight; he reached down to grab his shirt from the floor, slipping the fabric on over his shoulders, moving his fingers from one button to the next.

“Don’t think I’m gonna be able to head back today,” Arthur confessed, rubbing the nape of his neck, as the beginning of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Ain’t gonna be able to sit on that damn horse - can barely feel my legs.”

Charles laughed, combing his fingers through his hair, working out a tangle. “Too rough, huh? Figured a big cowboy like you’d be able to handle it,” He grinned, eyes playfully scanning Arthur’s body up-and-down.

“You’re a tough feller, Mr. Smith; good thing I like ya,” He shook his head, chuckling to himself as he shuffled around the room until he collected his clothing that had been tossed around the bed. There was a comfortable silence that filled the room as they both dressed themselves, enjoying each other’s company without the need to always speak. They preferred it that way; they spoke when they felt there was something important to be said and spent the rest of time enjoying their moments together. Arthur figured he wouldn’t want it any other way. “Ya know, I reckon it’d be much nicer if we never went back, just stayed here.”

“Mhm, you think,” Charles pulled up his boots as his hair fell into a dark veil over his face.

He wasn’t serious (entirely), but it was fun to entertain the thought. “Yeah, ain’t gotta worry ‘bout folk catchin’ us or havin’ to make up some excuse ‘bout where we’re headed. Tired ‘a lyin’ all the time,” He paused for a moment, trying to stop himself from getting too sentimental, but the words escaped his mouth before he could think twice, “I reckon all I need in the world’s right here with me now.”

Charles stepped away from the nightstand he had been lingering by and crossed over to Arthur’s side of the room, holding his face in his hands. “Let’s enjoy this time we have now, don’t worry ‘bout nothin’ else.”

Arthur nodded, and Charles kissed him; his head was dizzy and there may have been too big of an opening in the curtains, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The way Charles was pressed into him, hands steadied on his hips while he kissed him was enough to make him stop caring about the weight of the world that always felt like it was resting on his shoulders. Most of the time, he felt hardened and cold toward most everything, yet, now he was utterly careless, kissing Charles like nothing else mattered. How Charles could make a sappy fool out of him, he had no idea; he figured he liked the mystery of it all.

Charles pulled away after a few moments, and they took the chance to catch their breath, noses still touching. A strand of hair had fallen out of place and rested in front of Charles’s face; Arthur reached up to push it back, tucking it behind his ear. The corners of his mouth turned upward despite his best efforts to stop himself from smiling at the way Charles’s eyes crinkled at his touch. This fool made him feel like a child - naive and blind to the worst of it. And, if he wasn’t the most beautiful thing Arthur had ever seen; he hadn’t been lying when he said his entire world was right there with him.

“I love you,” The words slipped off his tongue faster than he could reel them back in, dripping out of his mouth like honey. He meant it, but the conscious decision to say it out loud, declaring his love and making it real, was a whole other thing he’d been clinging on to - for whatever reason. Doubt, probably. His mind was blank, dumbfounded by the feeling of it all. He never figured himself to be a lovesick fool, but here he was: absolutely sweet for this bastard he’d known for less than a year.

Charles stared at him, a moment inching by like a lifetime; his mouth twisted into a smile as he leaned in to kiss Arthur again. When he pulled away, he let his lips linger, mumbling against Arthur’s mouth, “Love you, too.”

Arthur turned away, shame washing over him; it wasn’t often he let himself get carried away like that. Hell, why couldn’t he just let himself have one good thing instead of riddling himself with doubt. Living the kind of life that he did, it wasn’t wise to let people in like this. Most of the people he’d loved over the years wanted nothing to do with the lifestyle to which he belonged; he couldn’t say he blamed them, though. There was nothing alluring about hiding from the government, living with a price on one’s head, always thinking that the next day could be the last. He always figured he would never settle down, not after losing just about everyone he had ever loved. It tugged at something inside of him, making him want to take back what he had said and forget it ever happened - to not let Charles in too close.

“Hell, I didn’t mean to get all sentimental,” He started, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to mask his discomfort with a chuckle, “I just… I dunno what got into me.”

Charles, never one for letting Arthur get away with his self-deprecating bullshit, rolled his eyes. He lifted a finger to Arthur’s chin, tilting his head up to kiss him, lips lingering on Arthur’s for just a moment. “Be quiet and lemme enjoy you bein’ honest for a change.”

 _Goddamn bastard_ , Arthur thought, _can’t you just let yourself have one goddamn thing?_

“You know,” Charles started, his voice syrupy and pulling Arthur out of his wandering subconscious - which was never a good place to get lost in. “That weren’t the first time you told me.”

“Huh?”

Charles’s eyes softened, reflecting on a memory, “Yeah. One night at camp, you had too much to drink. You was actin’ like a damn fool, so I got you outta there fast… We spent a good while out by ourselves - was real nice. You told me some things, some stuff ‘bout Dutch… It was good, hearin’ you be honest like that. And, you told me you loved me; you was the most drunk I’d ever seen you, figured you wouldn’t remember sayin’ it… It was a good night.”

“Huh,” Arthur muttered, his mind blank. He remembered everyone at camp celebrating their successful score a couple weeks back, and he reflected on the reprimands he garnered from Grimshaw about his drunken behavior. Apparently, he’d acted like a big damn fool, but nothing too bad. Though, nothing about acting all sweet on Charles came to mind. “They always said I were an honest drunk… I meant it then, and I reckon I do now.”

Charles smiled, “I know you do.”

* * *

 

They made it back to camp without raising any eyes; there had been so much going on as of late no one even noticed they were back until they finally needed something. Dutch had sent Charles out for scouting, going on about some _this and that_ he’d heard from _someone_ out _somewhere_. Arthur decided to take the time to fill out his journal, licking his thumb to flip to the next empty page.

_Never thought I’d let myself fall in love again, but Charles has really done one on me. We had a nice trip in Saint Denis, much as I hate it there. Got ahead of myself and told him I love him, really did mean it though. Turns out I was being foolish because he said I already told him when I’d been drinking. Sounds about like me. I reckon I’ll find a way to make a bigger fool of myself, but Charles don’t seem to mind all that much. We’ll see if it bites me, I guess._

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the Father John Misty song of the same name :-)
> 
> Also, I'm a coward and didn't write the smut that I /wanted/ to write, maybe I'll work up the confidence for it one day, lol.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. The comments I've been getting are SO encouraging, I appreciate them all so so much! I have a few more ideas for these two up my sleeve, so hopefully soon I'll be able to get another one out! Again, thanks for reading :-)


End file.
